God again...

So I guess I underestimated the power of prayer protection before I came here. Seriously though, everyday I see God's hand moving in my life and it's so amazing. Today for instance, I went to my first history discussion. It was very scarey b/c there were 55 students there and the teacher was very soft spoken and fast. Somehow (not really chance ik) I sat next to this girl named Elodie. She was so sweet and helped me understand everything that was going on. We had to sign up for dissertation topics and she told me to sign up for the same one as her so we could help each other. She also knew which topics were the easiest to write about. We're going to be writing about the causes of the Reformation, which I told her I've at least studied that in english already so I wont be totatlly lost. I also told her, though, that I have no idea how to write a dissertation (french write differntly than we do here). So she's going to help me. Afterwards we talked about the class and exchanged numbers so we could find a time to do research. She said whenever I want to go hang out just to call her. She knows very little english, which is good for me, but she really would like to be friends. Of all the people i sat down next to in that scarey class, God put me next to the perfect person. I'm so excited. I really want to have french friends so I can really learn about the culture here, and this friend will hopefully keep me from failing my class which is awesome. So an impossible class, and again, God finds a way...

Me and God vs. the Bursur's office last week...

(where it says today it was actually last week but I wrote this on Ali's computer when it happened...)
If anyone doubts the power of prayer, don’t. God listens, and God acts. It’s so easy to forget sometimes, especially when everything seems to be going well. It’s also easy to forget when God makes us wait for the answer or doesn’t answer us the way we wanted Him to. But just when you start to forget, He reminds you of his power and his love. Today He did just that for me. When you study abroad, you’re on a fixed income, a budget if you will. It feels like I have no money. Well I have enough to live and travel a bit, but that’s it. Yesterday I received an email for Madison that informed me that I had an addition $1100 left to pay because I’m in an apartment. It was not made clear by any means that this payment was coming up. Needless to say I didn’t have the money. There was no due date, but I know that the due date for Minnesota is in the middle of February, so I figured it was sometime between now and then. But again, between now and then I still won’t have enough. I freaked out. If I have to pay all I have to Madison, I can’t make utilities at the end of the month, I can’t eat, and I definitely can’t travel. I’d have to charge half of it too which means in an emergency I’m out of money on my credit card. This may not seem like a big deal, but it is a huge problem. If you don’t pay, they send you home. If I pay, then that’s it for me. I’m completely out of money. I prayed for a miracle. I just needed Madison to take my scholarships into account now instead of reimbursing me later, or if they let me pay in installments. Neither of which Madison ever does. Generally you pay everything up front, not in payments, and you have to pay for what your scholarships cover and then just wait for a check later.
So I prayed, and so did my mom. For the fist time I prayed for something for myself that I needed right away. I also, for the first time, prayed with a very strong conviction that God would come through. Not that I don't usually think he will, but I always doubt that what I ask for is anywhere near his will. This time I was sure He would come through. Anything would help. I emailed my study abroad office that morning and explained my situation. Literally the same day I heard back. The lady didn’t know what to do so she forwarded my request to someone in the bursar’s office (not my first choice for understanding administrators). That same night I received an answer to my prayers. My first scholarship was being credited to my account and my fee was then reduced to $325. The next step they took was to credit me for my second scholarship which comes in much later, so I pay nothing. And so I don’t get prevented from signing up for classes, they put a special notice on my file that shows that I have no late payments even though they don’t technically have the money for me yet. I was so grateful. God wasted no time on this one. The study abroad office is slow and unorganized. The bursar’s office is not sympathetic. God pulled through anyways. Not only did I not have to pay anything, but they sent wishes that I enjoy my stay here! I couldn’t believe it. Not that I didn’t think God would take care of it all in the end, but I didn’t think so soon! And to take care of the payment completely! It was more than I asked for. It was God smiling down knowing that He is perfectly able to take care of his child. I smiled back. It’s been awhile since God has stepped in so obviously to take care of me. God didn’t even give me the time to worry about it! He just stepped in and took care of everything, like He promised that He always would. Praise God, for He is good, his love endures forever!

Classes...

So last week I started class. Class here sucks. That’s really all there is to say. The first day it was rainy and cold. I had phonetics, blah. Sounding out the vowels, trying to hear differences in different ones she said, not fun. Then the next day, philo didn’t even meet. But the girl said it was Aristotle they’re studying, so I doubt I’ll keep it. Aristotle in English is one thing, in French it’s a completely different story. I would have liked to study some french philo'rs but oh well...Wednesday I had Civilization du Sud, we learned about prehistoric people in France. So pretty much rocks and cave paintings. That was a blast. But for my oral presentation (30% of my grade but with a group) i signed up for the one next week which means its coming up fast. But we our project is to just take a bus to the city of Lattes and then report back to the class what's so special about it. She gave us a hint and told us to find the museam. I'm kinda pumped that traveling is actually my project. So I like that class a lot so far. Then I had the worse class ever, history of modern art, modern meaning from the Renaissance to the French Revolution. The lady stood reading off some papers in super fast super soft French. A French student even asked her to talk louder and got denied. Thursday was grammar (which I suck at) and the discussion section for art history which I totally zoned out in. Friday was History of France from Renaissance to French Revolution. That was better at least. The prof was very animated and apparently funny (I say apparently b/c the class kept laughing but of course I never understood the jokes).
So that week was sucky, as far as classes go. But it got better because saturday I meet my conversation partner, Vinciane. She’s so adorable. She talked with Ali and I for like 4 hours that afternoon all about France and America and what it’s like here. Next Friday she invited us to her house for dinner. First she’s going to drive us around the area here and then show us the suburb where she lives. Then all her friends are coming over to hang out with us and her mom is making us dinner. I’m sooo excited. I finally get to practice my French in a nonacademic atmosphere. That’s all Ali and I wanted, a real French friend. I bought a book today too, Orgueil et prejuges (Pride and Prejudice but in french...). I’m pretty pumped. The movie is here now. I just finished the modern day version of the book. I pretty much just can’t get enough of that story. I just thought I’d throw that out there…

Need in this place

There's a song I've been listening to by Keri Noble called "need in this place" and it fits so well with how i feel about everything here:

Daughters of mercy, sons of grace
Be quick to pour yourselves out there's need in this place
I will be brave, I will be brave

Everyone here, even the American students, have this huge need and desire (unknown to them) for God. In everything that happens I see where God is missing, but where,if there, everything would completely renewed and restored. Remember my description of the abby? Imagine that abby filled with a heavenly choir singing praises to God. It's possible, the structure and the need is already there. All thats missing is God himself, and he's waiting to be invited in. Its so easy and they don't even know or understand, but it also seems impossible. The students just go out and drink away their problems. The french cling to thier intellectual secularism. It's so sad. I went to the oldest protestant church in Montpellier on Sunday, it doesn't even have serivices. It's more of a museum than a place of worship. So I walked around all over the city until I found this beautiful Catholic church (with the help of an interesting Indian man who owned the neighboring restaurant). When I first went in, there were hardly any people. Even when the serivice started, there was maybe only 50 or so. There aren't that many churches and this city is fairly big, so where are all the people? Even the ones that were there, with a few exceptions, were only following along with the ritualistic mass. The priest had heart when he spoke, but the congregation was half dead. For a choir there was one woman at the microphone, and barely anyone sang along to the old french hymns. This was not the abby filled with heavenly praise that I wanted to find. This was half-hearted and sad. I wonder how many people there really believe? Or how many were just going to keep up the tradition...One thing is for certain, even if you do believe, it isn't spoken of here. You never hear anyone talk about faith, of any kind. I was even excited to read about the Christian film festival that takes place next month. But by the looks of it it's more a documentary of different saints of old and not much to do with God or Chirst Himself. My friends here were really shocked that I got up early on a Sunday and sought out church, in a foriegn country no less. It made no sense to them. I talked with two girls about our familys and both only knew religion as holidays celebrating their Indian/Jewish/Irish heritage and nothing more. They asked if I was "religious" and I said no. I told them I don't like religion, but I do believe in God and Jesus Christ and try to live my life for them. They looked at me. I'm sure they thought, oh she's one of those...I pray for them. And sometimes I see their curiosity, like when Ali asked me what Corinthians was when she saw that on the page of my Bible. She explained that a friend of hers completely recovered from a horrible car accident and always had in her profile something about corinthians. I wish she would have let me explain more. And then there's Bhavana. Her family is from the south of India and I'm not sure what she believes. But she thought it was really cool that God was important to me and that I value the same thing in my boyfriend, Grant. She asked if he was "religious" too and I said no, he's like me. She smiled, knowing full well I don't like that word. She enjoyed the quote in my facebook profile that says "a woman's heart must be hidden in Christ so that a man must seek God to find her." Maybe someday she'll really understand what that means. Until then, all of these girls are in my prayers. And I have noticed how close a watch they keep on my behavior, or lack there of. I'm not used to being any different from my friends (who are usually Christians too) so it's wierd for people to take special notice of what I do or don't do. So I'm being extra careful to live as Christlike as possible, for their sake but for my own as well. It's harder than I thought. When you know you're being watched, you notice more things you wish you didn't do. But thats good, because you should imitate Christ no matter who is in your company, but you can't only rely on others to help you do that. Please take a moment and pray for these people, this city, and this country. Whenever people ask for prayers, I find that I usually say okay and forget to do it. So please make an effort and please don't forget. More and more I'm realizing just how much prayer is needed. I pray so hard for a revival here, but my faith isn't strong enough to truly believe it can happen. But if it did, all the eyes in France and Europe would be on this city, and maybe then...

Beaches Bathrooms and Boulle

Today we decided to hit up the beach again, only this time relying on only our own efforts. We made it there, well to a beach anyway, but it took us a little over an hour. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t use schedules or routes to plan ahead. It was colder today so we didn’t spend much time at the beach itself. After we ate and climbed the rock-pier thing we were ready to explore elsewhere. Unfortunately Annie had to go the bathroom, really bad. Now unlike the states, France is not known for having a plethora of public restroom facilities. When you do find one, you have to pay, and you may not have a toilet lid, a toilet at all (Turkish toilets I was told they call the holes in the ground), a toilet but no toilet paper, and often no sink or soap. Nevertheless, we searched. Much to our dismay there were none to be found. We walked for upwards of a half hour just looking for a restroom (restaurants and cafes either don’t have them or require that you be a paying customer to use them). Finally we found a sketchy public w.c. in the middle of a parking lot. By then, however, we were no where near our old bus stop. So we decided to just explore the area. We sat down at a quaint little café in the middle of this random coastal town and spent some time planning out our travels for the semester. We have to decide where to go on our 5 day break in Febuary, and it seems like most of the girls want to go to Greece or Italy or both (which would be amazing).
The afternoon was coming to a close we set off to find a bus stop. After some unsuccessful encounters with some locals we finally found one but the bus wouldn’t be there for another hour and half. So we searched out the Office of Tourism (signs were everywhere) which led us on a crazy roundabout mission to an office that was closed because it had relocated. We weren’t too discouraged, however, because in our efforts to find the office and ask for the easiest way back into the city, we stumbled upon 5 or so groups of old French men playing boulle (sp?), the French equivalent of botche (sp?) ball. They were so cute to watch, playing by the sailboat port even in the cold. I bet they come every Saturday, rain or shine. We asked if we could watch the group closest to us and they seemed delighted to have spectators. One man acted as almost an announcer for us. He kept making fun of one other old man in their group. Every time the other man would go he would say, “A 18 ans, il est le champion du monde! Voila le champion du monde! (At 18 yrs old he was the champion (boulle) player of the world. Watch the champion)” It was cool to watch, because this was a taste of the real France. The stuff you don’t see in the busy downtown area or in the smoky clubs. This is the France that makes you want to move here.

the french...

The French. I’m not sure how else they can be described. Each one you meet is so different from the next, but at the same time they are all so alike. There are the rude ones that cut in line at the store… eh hem Madame…and the rude waiters who don’t care much for American patrons even if they can speak French. The one’s who speak a mile a minute about all of their dog’s ailments when all you can do is nod and pretend to understand. The one’s who lecture you about how the only way to learn their language is to be in their country hearing it but give the lecture in English. The one’s who want to practice their English on you even though you know more French then they do English. The one’s who draw pictures of themselves on your bill after being the most polite waiter we’ve meet so far. The one’s who scowl as they walk down the street but can’t help but smile when they run into a friend. The one’s who smoke so many cigarettes you think they run on tobacco instead of food. The one’s who let there dogs run loose in the streets and their children too. The one’s who love to say “what’s up” when they realize we’re American. The one’s who are supposed to be helping us learn our French but only talk to us in English. The one’s who charge 3,5€ for only 22 cl of Pepsi. The one’s who pretend to be a living statue of Michael Jackson. The young one’s who march in a big protest parade downtown about some local politician. There are all sorts of people, but only one breed: French.

walk on the beach

Today we cruised around the beach outside of Montpellier. It's the Mediterranian and it's beautiful. It's too bad it was too cold to swim. But give it a month or so, and I'll be at the beach all the time to read and study. After we picniced at the beach we walked 4km to the cathedral. It was very beautiful and very old. Soon the vineyard surronding it will be green and that will be awesome to see. I think we saw flamingos, but I'm not sure. Don't ask. Inside the cathedral I got kinda sad. Everyone here is very indifferent to religion of any kind. Just looking around the church, it was very cold and big and empty. I feel like the cathedral represents France in a way. A place that may have at one time been filled with God's presence is now cold, dark and empty. I pray that God will soon revive France and once again be present here and bring a light to the darkness. As beautiful as this place is, it is very dark spiritually. France needs prayers. But I need to remember that even the smallest light pierces the darkness.

some alone time

I still haven’t been in France a week yet but it feels like I’ve been here for much longer already. I’m starting to get into a routine here, and I pretty much know my way around a good part of the city already. It’s amazing how quick you can get oriented to new surroundings. This is the first bit of alone time I’ve had for awhile. I love everyone I’ve met over here, but everything has been so hectic all week. I don’t feel like I’ve had a moment to relax in forever. It’s hard because I think I’m the only person here who likes to have time alone. I think for the most part people are afraid to be by themselves. I think when they’re alone they get homesick, esp the people who are in homestays or in apartments by themselves. I’m glad I do have roommates, but that makes it harder to take time away from everything. It’s really hard to find time to connect with God here. Every time I try to do devotions I get interrupted and there’s no one here I can really fellowship with. I think I’m the only interested in finding a church to go to here. I tried to feel out my roommate to see if she was interested, and she might, but only because I’m going and not because she has any desire to go to a church. I hope she does. I’ve had some conversations with her about a few things, like what her family believes, but it’s hard to figure out where she’s at. I don’t think she’s against there being a God, but I don’t think that’s on her list of things to worry about right now. Pray for her. I really hope I can find a protestant “temple” there to go to. I’ve seen a few catholic churches, but I’m not sure how that’d work out. I don’t exactly know how catholic services work in English so I think I’d be totally lost if it was in French. Pray that I find some place, or someone who knows what I can do. In the mean time, I need to step it up a notch giving time back to God. My weakness at home is staying focused above, and abroad it’s so much harder. I can literally pinpoint exact moments where the enemy has drawn me away from time with God using the most innocent distractions, like being too tired or talking to my roommate. I could even use that distraction for God if I only had the courage to really talk to my roommate about God and what he’s done for me, but it’s harder than I thought it’d be. I shouldn’t care what anyone here thinks, least of all people I’ll only see for 5 months. But it’s hard to get past that feeling of wanting acceptance, esp since everyone here is starting from scratch just like me. But if I don’t show who I live my life for now, then why should they listen to me if I talk about it later?

la fete

So last night was the night that our “social assistants” (the 3 french students that work for our program) took us out on the town to experience Montpellier’s night life. It was definitely interesting. The group of girls I’ve been hanging out with decided that they wanted to pre-game it at a café with some wine first. So we went to the Café Riche to split a bottle of Merlot. One of my goals while I’m here is to become a wine connoisseur of sorts, because after all this is France. Little did I realize, I hate wine. The first kind I tried the other night was called Rosé and it was horrible. The other girls said it was bad, so I figured I might like another type. No, not true. We had some red Merlot stuff at that café and it was so bad. All the girls said it was really good and I just didn’t like it at all. I could barely finish one glass. Lucky for me the girls had no problem finishing the bottle without my help… I better learn to like it though because it’s cheaper to drink wine with dinner than coke (a pepsi the other day cost me what would be about $5, ridiculous). Then we met up with the group and went to some bizarre techno club/bar just outside of the city center. They played this weird techno music and random American songs, like lady Marmalade and hit the road jack. Everyone was loading up on drinks, like Americans usually do, and they started getting pretty riled up. Needless to say, we stuck out. If we didn’t look like Americans, we certainly sounded like them. People were awed that I wouldn’t want to drink, and they kept offering me mine because I think they thought the real reason I didn’t want to drink wasn’t because I wasn’t interested but because I couldn’t afford to (its 4 euros and up for a drink!). I assured them I could have fun without the alcohol, and to there surprise I did. That is until I was accosted by some creepy French dude. I know that American girls have a reputation abroad for being “easy” and I have blonde hair which makes me easy to pinpoint as being a foreigner, but seriously, this guy was not cool. He came up and started trying to “dance” with me and gave me the sleazy look says “I’m so cool you should be so lucky as to sleep with me.” I turned to him and said “non, non, s’il vous plait” and so he tried the small talk approach. I can handle talking, so I answered his questions about school and why I was in Montpellier. Then he kept giving me the hand signal to “dance” with him. I told him I have a “petit ami” (boyfriend) so I wasn’t interested. Then he told me he too had a “copaine” (girlfriend) here but she wasn’t there tonight so it was okay. I was like, wow this guy really is a sleaze ball. I told him no again and turned to talk to one of the guys in our group so he’d leave me alone. Other girls had similar experiences like that last night. Some worse, but I think because they were drunk and not as assertive. It’s true that the French men are more aggressive and very sleazy, at least in the night scene. That’s one think I’m not real pumped to deal with. But it’s actually not as bad as I was warned it might be. During the day I never deal much flack; it’s pretty much just at night and directed to the whole group (of girls I hang out with).
We went to another club that night called Rockstore. I like this place better because it was much less crowed and less smokey. The DJ was funny b/c he’d mix random Queen songs with Jay-Z. And it was hilarious to watch Youseff bust a move on the dance floor (one of our French students). Ali and I headed out early after my more inebriated friends promised they’d let other people walk them home (I highly doubt they would have found home otherwise). I’m glad Ali’s like me in that she’s not one to go out and get drunk or stay out all night. We both like going out, but only to a point. She’s really glad too that I’m here because otherwise she’d feel pressured into just doing what everyone else does. But if I don’t think it’s dorky to not drink and not stay out till 4, then it’s not dorky for her either because we’re in it together. I never realized how unusual it is to not care about that kind of stuff like a lot of people do because I have so many friends at home that don’t care either. I never realized how many other people only do stupid stuff like get totally wasted and make fools of themselves because they feel like they have to. More people need confidence boosters, I’ve decided. Be yourself, don’t care about being cool. Then you just will be cool. It’s that easy. I know that sounds really cheesy, but whatever it’s true.

a walk through the park

Today I had a very ordinary and simple experience that is my best one since I’ve arrived. It was time for me to go register for classes in the office (10/15 min walk from downtown) so I said goodbye to the girls and headed out. I stopped by the market place and bought a ripe apple, taking it with me on my way along the rows of trees that extend out from the fountain. It was the best tasting apple I’ve had in a long time. As I ate, I just soaked up my surroundings. The sun was shining and people were bustling about without a care in the world. I stopped at a bench in the park just to savor the moment. I watched moms go by with their kids running in circles and speaking in French that was completely incomprehensible. I watched couples walk by hand in hand, and people with all sorts of dogs. A guy passing by shouted out bon appetite and gave me a funny look, which, while it was a little creepy that he might be hitting on me, actually made me laugh out loud and I couldn’t help but smile. Nearby 20 or so people were intensely watching a game of live chess where the pieces are about 2 or 3 feet tall. Then I got up and passed the pond and grass area where groups of students and people with their dogs were lounging on the ground. The air was crisp but not cold, the sun was bright, and everything seemed perfect. The buildings are so beautiful all around and I can’t get over the fact that I’m really living here for the semester. I just ate my apple and enjoyed every moment of my walk. There’s something about being by myself for once that just let me really appreciate this whole place. In that moment I just felt God’s hand both on my stay here and the city itself. The people may not remember God, but God’s beauty and wonder are still alive and well in this place.

observations from france

Toast once said, “the French are a strange breed.” That is the most true statement I’ve every heard. As much as I love this city and its food (croissants!), I’m not sure yet how I feel about the people. They’re so diverse yet all the same at the same time. It’s so bizarre. The style here is a mix of eurotrash (hard to explain, it’s what my friends and I call the overtrendy and ugly styles here of over processed and busy jeans with ugly mullet-like hair with bad hightlights…you get the idea) and class (I’m talking everyday dressed to the hilt), the most confusing dichotomy I’ve ever witnessed. Half the time I feel underdressed even with my long peacoat and nicer shoes because I’m not in all black with stilettos or boots that go to my knees. The other time I feel like I look at least more attractive than the overdone trashy styles (esp when they’re worn by chain smokers…blah). Either way, I will never be one of them. Not unless I get some self tanner and hair dye.

I am the exact opposite physically of everyone here. I exaggerate not when I say that there are no blondes native to the south of france. Any I may see in town are most likely American like me or at least Swedish or something. The blue eyes and fair (by fair I mean ghostly white) skin don’t help much either. To be from the south of france you need to have an olive complexion and raven hair. There are no exceptions. If you want you can put gross hightlight tiger streaks in your hair, but it must be predominately black. Very rarely do you see the French as allover fake blondes. It just doesn’t happen. Consequently, I stick out, horribly so, with that comes the stares. Yes I am American. If my English didn’t give it away surely my entire appearance did. I try so hard to dress nicely but it doesn’t quite do the trick like I thought it might. It’s not just that I’m so different from them; it’s that they notice and I notice them noticing me. It’s not so fun.

The French also have a completely different demeanor than we do. They don’t smile. If you face a crowd walking towards you they will look so intense you’ll think they’re an army marching off to fight. It’s ridiculous. I tried smiling at some passerbys today and got the look that says “why on earth are you doing that” so I gave up. The stupid thing is, if you actually stop and talk to them ever they can be super friendly. There was this old lady today that just talked to us a mile a minute about her dog and how it keeps running away. We didn’t understand half of what she said but being the friendly neighbors that we are we pretended to. The assistants (French students our age that help with our program here) too are very friendly and always happy to give help. But as a general rule here, happiness is not allowed, at least not while you walk down the street. This makes me question the traditional Montpellier greeting. It’s customary (rude if you don’t) to give each other three kisses on the cheek when you say hello or goodbye to a friend (guys too). This is a very touchy feely custom for such a sullen faced people. I guess, like their style, the French are just in their own little world that I may never quite understand.

A badger in france...

(just so you know the keyboards are very different here so this first message is going to be alot shorter than usual) So its finally here. Years of dreaming about this moment and it's finally reality. There's something about studying a language for so long that just makes you yearn to see the country and really experience it. Little did I realize how frightening it would be to actually interact with the french people. Even the little boy on the plane was scarey to talk to. I'm starting to realize how self conscious I am at speaking french to the natives. I'm afraid to buy things because I'm afraid I'll look stupid or totally not understand anything. But I've also realized how much it's actually up to me how much I get out of all this. It's so easy to just talk to the other americans. But I've made the decision to live this semester to it's fullest. If that means I join the swim team here (sports are recommended ways of mixing with french students) or join another club, so be it. Okay I really want to describe this amazing city but the keyboard is driving me up the wall so ill save it for next time. Trois bisous (3 kisses are the traditional greeting/parting gesture in Montpellier)!